32 pages • 1 hour read
Wole SoyinkaA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
“Will you take my case?”
The dead couple have traveled through time and the afterlife, waiting generations for the wrongs they suffered in the Court of Mata Kharibu to be redressed. However, when they are finally resurrected, their appearance scares off the village dwellers, exciting their fear and suspicion. As none of the living are willing or able to right the wrongs of the past, Aroni interferes on behalf of the dead couple.
“Rola: I see we’ve got another of the good old days.
Obaneji: On the contrary…”
This brief exchange foreshadows the Forest Head’s intent. Obaneji (the Forest Head in disguise) hints that he is not interested in the past. The Forest Head instead represents the idea of resisting nostalgia for a glorious past that never really existed. The ellipses, as The Forest head declines to elaborate on his meaning, hints at the double-meaning of the denial: the present is not a return to a glorious past, and the past was not so glorious, either.
“The accumulated heritage—that is what we are celebrating. Mali. Chaka. Songhai. Glory. Empires.”
Adenebi and the rest of the village intended to summon illustrious ancestors from the past to the Gathering of the Tribes. Mali and Songhai were powerful West African empires, and Chaka may refer to Shaka, a prominent monarch of the Zulu Kingdom. The villagers prefer to focus on the heroic myth of the past, and ignore the uglier aspects of the past, represented in the dead couple who are ignored by the villagers at the start of the play.
“Eshuoro came here and bit off the top. Said someone else—some woodcutter or something—had cut off his own, so he came to take it out on me.”
Murete reveals to Aroni the damage Eshuoro has done to his tree home. This demonstrates Eshuoro’s anger toward Demoke: unlike Ogun, Aroni, and the Forest Head, Eshuoro is a wrathful and belligerent Orisha. Here, Eshuoro’s thirst for vengeance is also indicated to be irrational, as Murete has committed no act against Eshuoro himself.
“It is I, Agboreko. Murete, it is Agboreko that calls you. Ear that never shuts, eye that never closes. Murete, Agboreko brings you the unhappiness of his children.”
Agboreko serves as the liaison between the realm of the forest spirits and the people of the village, who are displeased with the choice of the dead that the gods sent them. When he leaves, Murete mocks him, showing that, despite Agboreko’s pomp and circumstance, he is viewed by the forest-dwelling Orisha as something of a fool. Through their disdain, the Orisha are also shown to be entirely beyond the influence or control of the humans.
“All the passenger lorries pass through our hands in the council. We perform all the formalities. The name of this one is ‘God My Savior.’”
Adenebi is implied to be the councilman who took the bribe for the ‘Incinerator’ lorry, which killed 65 people. “God My Savior,” the real name of the Chimney of Ereko, the heavily polluting lorry, shows the continuing influence of British colonial rule in the form of Christianity in Nigeria, while also hinting at the catastrophic effects of colonization, which the British tried to justify as bringing modern industrialization to Nigeria.
“I watched it. I took part in it. There is nothing ignoble in a fall from that height. The wind cleaned him as he fell. And it goes further. I mean, for me, it goes further. Perhaps it is because I am a slave to heights. You see, I can go so far so high, but one step further than that and I am seized with dizziness. Where my hands are trembling to mould, my body will not take me. Is that not lack of fulfillment?”
Though he is prestigious a carver from a long line of such artists, Demoke’s fear of heights meant that his apprentice, Oremole, would have the honor of carving the top of the idol from the araba tree. This hints at the revelation that Demoke knocked Oremole from the tree purposefully, killing him out of jealousy. Demoke’s fear of heights is also consistent with his past incarnation as the Court Poet, who is apprehensive of going to the rooftop for Madame Tortoise’s canary.
“Madame Tortoise. Just think… I have been with her all day.”
Demoke recognizes Rola as the reincarnation of her ancestor, the lascivious Madame Tortoise, a notorious courtesan and consort of Mata Kharibu. He makes the connection due to the similarities in the scandals the two women produce. His recognition of Rola as Madame Tortoise also foreshadows his own past as the Court Poet, who served the notorious courtesan.
“Well, believe me when I tell you that everything has misfired. These people who have come to claim our hospitality do not wish us well. We were sent the wrong people. We asked for statesmen and we were sent executioners.”
The Old Man laments the nature of the dead ancestors that have been summoned for the festival. Rather than the illustrious ancestors they had hoped for, the Dead Man and Dead Woman represent the sordid past coming back to haunt the living, seeking justice. Through the Old Man’s dismay, Soyinka warns modern Nigerians against nationalistic thinking and glorifying a morally complex national past.
“[…] by the way, I really ought to tell you how disappointed I was with your son’s handiwork. Don’t you think it was rather pagan? I should have thought that something more in keeping with our progress would be more appropriate.”
Adenebi voices his disapproval of the village idol carved by Demoke. Adenebi likens it to paganism, linking it to the past, rather than the Christian future of postcolonial Nigeria. Soyinka positions Adenebi as a typical modern politician: corrupt, dismissive of Nigeria’s traditional culture and obsessed with money and the illusion of progress as defined by Western values.
“I feared it. Eshuoro was the fourth. Eshuoro must have been the fourth, leading you all to your destruction. How did you escape?”
The Old Man, fearing for his son, Demoke’s, life, mistakenly identifies Obaneji as Eshuoro based on Adenebi’s description. Obaneji is actually the Forest Head; although his tries to lead the villagers deeper into the forest, he does not wish their destruction. Again, Soyinka presents a modern Nigerian character who has trouble distinguishing corrupt forces from helpful ones.
“[A slow rumble of scattered voices, and the forest creatures pass through, from the direction of the lorry, coming straight down and turning right and left. They all hold leaves to their noses and grumble all the way. Some sniff in disgust, others spit, all stop their noses, disapproving strongly of the petrol fumes. Adenebi tries to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. Some fan their faces, and one has encased his head completely in a clay pot. They are all assortments of forest spirits, from olobiribiti, who rolls himself like a ball, to the tow-headed purubororo, whose four horns belch continuous smoke.]”
This passage demonstrates the complex stage directions of A Dance of the Forests. The forest Orisha are driven out by the fumes of the Chimney of Ereko. The lorry’s true name, God My Savior, makes this scene reminiscent of Christianity overtaking traditional Yoruba beliefs. Soyinka also portrays the devastating effects of industrialization on the natural world.
“The totem, blind fool, drunk fool, insensitive fool. The totem, my final insult. The final taunt from the human pigs. The tree that is marked down for Oro, the tree from which my follower fell to his death, foully or by accident, I have still to discover when we meet at the next wailing. But my body was stripped by the impious hands of Demoke, Ogun’s favoured slave of the forge. My head was hacked off by his axe. Trampled, sweated on, bled on, my body’s shame pointed at the sky by the adze of Demoke, will I let this day pass without vengeance claimed blood for sap?”
“Unborn generations will be cannibals most worshipful Physician. Unborn generations will, as we have done, eat up one another.”
The Physician warns the Warrior that his failure to fight for Mata Kharibu will affect future generations. In response, the Warrior attests that unborn generations will perpetuate the same violence as theirs—one of the central themes of the play. Just as Soyinka suggests that the past must not be glorified and used to justify the present, Soyinka presents the Warrior as unwilling to use an ambiguous future to justify his actions in the past.
“It is unheard of. War is the only consistency that past ages afford us. It is the legacy which new nations seek to perpetuate. Patriots are grateful for wars. Soldiers have never questioned bloodshed. The cause is always the accident your Majesty, and war is the Destiny. This man is a traitor. He must be in the enemy’s pay.”
The Court Historian attests that there is no precedent for the Warrior’s refusal to fight. Through the Court Historian, Soyinka suggests that Africa’s postcolonial present is as bound to violence and war as its precolonial past was, and that the glorification of the past only continues the cycle of violence.
“He could not understand that I took him, just as I select a new pin every day. He came back again and could not understand why the door was barred to him. He was such a fool.”
Madame Tortoise explains to the Warrior the circumstances surrounding the suicide of one of his men, with whom she had an affair. Notorious among the men as a woman of loose morals, Madame Tortoise exhibits similar behavior as her descendant, Rola, who has two dead lovers. In Rola and Madame Tortoise, Soyinka recreates the cyclical violence of the male characters as emotional callousness in the women.
“Soon, I will not tell you from the humans, so closely have their habits grown on you. Did I summon this welcoming for your prowess or for ends of my own? Take care how you tempt my vanity. Eshuoro, you came here to bathe in blood, Ogun, you to defend the foibles of your ward. Let this night alone, when I lay out the rites of the dead or my anger will surpass your spleen.”
The Forest Head asserts his authority over the other gods, chiding them for squabbling and fighting like mortals. While Ogun and Eshuoro can manipulate and threaten the play’s human characters, they cannot completely subvert the will of the Forest Head. By endowing his invented Orisha with supreme powers, Soyinka simultaneously reinforces the value of Yoruba traditions and incorporates a new, modern point of view.
“It is enough that they discover their own regeneration.”
While Eshuoro is out for blood, the punishment Aroni intends for the mortals, in accordance with the will of the Forest Head, is more didactic in nature. He wishes them to recognize the sins of their past to ensure that they can avoid the curse of repeating them in the future. Aroni’s motivations are closes to those of Soyinka himself, who presented his satire as a cautionary tale for the new nation of Nigeria.
“Every day. Every hour. Where will it end? / Child, there is no choice but one of suffering / And those who tread the understreams / Add ashes to the hairs / Of Forest Father. Rest awhile. / The beings of the Forest have been called / To dance the welcome, to quiet your spirit / Torn loosely by the suddenness.”
Where the Questioner (Eshuoro in disguise) is cruel, the Forest Head is consoling, offering the Dead Woman the promise of solace at last. The Forest Head laments that the cycle of human violence that caused the woman’s death is unending, and that it bodes ill for the future of the Nigerian people. Soyinka aligns this clear-eyed and benevolent point of view with both the traditional Yoruba culture and the natural world, two entities threatened by the forces of colonialism and a corrupt nascent government.
I who yet await a mother / Feel this dread, / Feel this dread, / I who flee from womb / To branded womb, cry it now / I’ll be born dead / I’ll be born dead.”
The Half-Child represents the Yoruba concept of Abiku, the child born to die. This speech is a curse for a mother, who is doomed to lose a child over and over. The Half-Child represents the fate of the future to repeat the mistakes of the past.
“You perversions are born when they acquire power over one another, and their instincts are fulfilled a/ thousandfold, a hundred thousandfold.”
According to the Forest Head, the Triplets—the End that Justifies the Means, the Greater Cause, and Posterity—are entities that arise from the iniquities of human society. They represent the negative actions that cause the present to suffer for the immorally justified actions of the past. By referring to the Triplets at stemming from the fulfilled “instincts” of humans who attain power, Soyinka also suggests the inherent corruption of power, and suggests that the new Nigerian nation must be on guard against typical political misdeeds.
“My secret is my eternal burden—to pierce the mirror of original nakedness—knowing full well, it is all futility. Yet I must do this alone, and no more, since to intervene is to be guilty of contradiction, and yet to remain altogether unfelt is to make my long-rumored ineffectuality complete; hoping that when I have tortured awareness from their souls, that perhaps, only perhaps, in new beginnings...”
Though he is the most powerful of the Orisha in A Dance of the Forests, the Forest Head laments his apparent impotence: he cannot force the mortals to change their ways; he can only attempt to instruct and steer them in the right direction. The Forest cannot subvert human free will without appearing hypocritical, and he cannot refuse to act or else his impotence will be confirmed. The ellipses at the end of the Forest Head’s lament indicates how a different kind of future beyond the cycles of violence has yet to be imagined clearly, even by Soyinka, or that the Forest Head’s wish is too dear to risk speaking it aloud.
“Demoke, you hold a doomed thing in your hand. It is no light matter to reverse the deed that was begun many lives ago. The Forest will not let you pass.”
Demoke succeeds in saving the Half-Child from Eshuoro’s clutches, but this act does not fully redeem him. Were Demoke to keep the Half-Child, Eshuoro would still hunt him down. Insofar as the Half Child is an Abiku, a child doomed to die after being born, he represents the Forest Head’s (and Soyinka’s) cynicism toward the prospect of redemption.
“Look, look at me. Behind every sapling, there was the sudden had of Aroni, and he aims well.”
Throughout the play, the sounds of the celebrating villagers firing guns, ringing bells, and banging drums chase the dead couple through the forest. The Old Man reveals that Aroni punished the villagers for mistreating their intended guests, viciously pelting them with stones. Soyinka reveals here that the villagers have not only misunderstood their history, but are unable to recognize the mistakes of the present, as well; only the Old Man realizes what has happened.
“Of the future, did you learn anything?”
The Old Man is anxious to learn about the strange night his son and the others have suffered through; Agboreko sarcastically asks if Demoke learned anything about what is to come from his visit to the past. Demoke is unable to give a clear answer, as the Forest Head is unable to speak explicitly about his vision of the future, and as Soyinka himself remains ambivalent about the future of the newly independent Nigeria. Through Agboreko, Soyinka poses the same question to his audience, encouraging them to reflect on what the play has shown them about how Nigeria’s past and present may shape their future, and the dangers of idealizing their pre-colonial history.
By Wole Soyinka
African American Literature
View Collection
African History
View Collection
African Literature
View Collection
Allegories of Modern Life
View Collection
Colonialism & Postcolonialism
View Collection
Colonialism Unit
View Collection
Nobel Laureates in Literature
View Collection
Politics & Government
View Collection